The Double-Walker
by Adamantwrites
Summary: Follows "To Suffer a Sea Change." Adam is mistaken for another man and he has to pay the price only to later meet up with his doppelgänger. What will Lucy do when Adam's double courts her? This is the second in the Adam/Lucy arc and it also refers to another character PR played in the BRONCO TV series, in the episode "The Belles of Silver Flats."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. All original charcetrs and plots are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

**THE DOUBLE-WALKER**

**PART 1**

"Dadburnit, Adam," Hoss said, "I'm just about plumb starved to death but unless I get a good night's sleep, I'll fall asleep right in the middle of eatin' a meal." Hoss and his brother, Adam Cartwright, had just stabled their horses at the livery and were on their way to one of the town's hotels for a night's sleep. The livery owner had told them that the hotel had a restaurant and that there was a bath on each floor.

"You need a bath more than anything else," Adam said, with an expression of disgust. "You'll put everyone off their food smelling like that."

"You ain't no rose neither," Hoss said stamping up the steps to the hotel.

"Maybe not, but at least I took a whore's baths-you didn't even wipe anything down." Adam gave Hoss a half grin.

"Well, I was afraid that if I did wash and iffen I smelled different, it might've stampeded the cattle."

Adam laughed and shook his head. "I tell you what. Let's get our rooms, take baths and then have dinner sent up to the room. We'll get room service like those cattle barons that everyone thinks we are."

"Sounds good to me, "Hoss said, swinging his saddlebags over his shoulder as they walked over to the clerk's desk, "but you know, after a bath and dinner, I might be awake enough to go to a saloon for a beer and for a pretty girl to sit on my empty lap."

Adam shook his head in disgust. "Hoss, all your appetites are just too big for me. You go to the saloon. I'd just as soon go to sleep."

"You're getting' old, Adam. I noticed that gray comin' in at your temples but didn't know that it was age that was coolin' your blood as well."

The two walked up to the desk and the clerk looked at them suspiciously; they looked like dirty cowhands, fresh off the trail which basically, they were. They had left Texas days ago, paid off their drovers and then immediately headed back to the Ponderosa but Adam had decided that they needed a good, easy night before they rode for the next three days. Hoss leaned on the counter and the clerk stepped back; Adam smiled to himself. He didn't know if it was Hoss' smell of horse, cattle or days of unwashed sweat that caused the clerk to retreat or if it was just Hoss' overwhelming size that intimidated him, but he was amused nonetheless.

"We'd like a room-two beds, please," Adam said, adjusting his saddlebags. The clerk just stared at them and looked peculiarly at Adam.

"A room?" Adam said and stood up straight. That seemed to make the desk clerk nervous and he pushed the register at Adam and then turned to pull a key out of one of the small cubbies in the multi-divided box on the wall behind him. Adam signed and then turned the register so that the clerk could read it.

The clerk handed the key to Adam and then looked at the name. "Cartwright? That your name?"

Adam looked at Hoss and then turned back to the clerk. "I wouldn't have written it if it wasn't now, would I?"

"I suppose not," the clerk said. "How long do you plan to stay?"

"We haven't decided," Adam said, "but you'll be the first to know when we leave." Adam tossed the key up once and caught it, closing his hand around it. "Goodnight." Adam tipped his hat at the desk clerk who just nodded and watched the two strangers as they walked up the stairs.

"What the hell you think's wrong with him?" Hoss said as he trudged up the stairs.

"Damned if I know-maybe they're just not used to cowboys staying here-maybe he just thought you were about the ugliest, most stinkin' cuss he'd ever seen." Adam smiled to himself. Hoss gave him a small shove.

"Iffen he thought anyone was an ugly cuss, older brother, it would be you. You're the one he kept starin' at. Hey, Adam, maybe your irresistibility extends to men. Maybe he done thought you was so purty that he plans to sneak upstairs and ask you iffen you want your back scrubbed whiles you're in the tub. You best lock that door good."

"You're so funny." Adam gave a sardonic grin to Hoss and Hoss burst out in huge guffaws. It wasn't often that he could get the best of Adam.

After they were in their room, Adam pulled out his clean shirt and rolled-up trousers, the extras he had put in before they had left Nevada, and claimed the bath while Hoss lay down on top of his bed.

"Hey, this bed feels nice and comfortable. Why you in such a hurry to get home?" Hoss asked. "You act like you got a fire set under you."

"Every time we dawdle somewhere, you manage to get yourself in some kind of trouble so I just want to get home as soon as possible-the less temptation for you, the better. If I let you wander, why you'll end up gambling away the Ponderosa." Adam stood, one hand on the doorknob.

"Now, Adam, That ain't true. I ain't Joe, remember-he needs a leash. But go take your bath-let me know if someone comes in to help you wash-and if I'm asleep, wake me for dinner."

"I'm not eatin' with you smelling like that. Bathe first."

"Okay, Adam, don't you worry. And don't use all the hot water." And Adam left for the bath.

The next morning, Adam woke up just as the sun was rising. The first rays were starting to strike at an angle across his bed and Hoss was snoring; he had come in late. After they had eaten their dinner that was brought up, Hoss took off for the saloon. Adam had heard him come in and stumble to his bed a few hours later. Adam had heard the bed groan as Hoss sat down and then he listened tensely while Hoss struggled with his boots and let first one, then the other, thud on the floor. Then Hoss gave a few heavy sighs and was soon breathing heavily. And this morning, when Adam looked over, Hoss lay flat on his back, still in his clothes, heavily snoring.

'Well,' Adam thought to himself, 'at least he didn't wet himself like he has before when he's drunk too much.'

Adam woke Hoss and told him to wash up for breakfast and then the two brothers went down to the restaurant. They sat down and the waitress came over to take their order and Adam noticed that she seemed almost surly and didn't look at either of them as she turned their coffee cups back over and poured them coffee. When both Adam and Hoss thanked her, she just gave a small nod and then left. As they ate, Hoss looked around the restaurant.

"Adam, these people keep starin' at us like we're some freaks what escaped from a side-show or somethin'. What you think it is?"

"I don't know. You took a bath so it couldn't be that." Adam grinned.

"Ain't funny, Adam. No, it's kinda, well, it's makin' me feel a little strange. I wanted to stay here a few days but now, I mean even as friendly as those girls were last night, I think we should leave."

Adam sipped his coffee. "The only reason those girls were so friendly, as you say, is because you had money in your pockets. But I think you're right about leaving; even the talk died down when we walked in."

"Adam, look." Hoss nodded toward the entrance to the dining room and when Adam turned to look, he saw the desk clerk standing there with the town sheriff and he was pointing in their direction. The sheriff nodded at the clerk and said something and then walked over to them. He was a tall, heavy-set man with reddish hair and ruddy complexion. He approached them and stood by Adam and looked down on him.

"I'd say it's good to see you again, Driscoll, but I'd be lyin'. I told you that I never wanted to see you in my town again."

"Excuse me," Adam said, "but I'm not anyone named, 'Driscoll.' You have me confused with someone else. My name's Adam Cartwright and this here is my brother, Hoss."

"I don't care what name you're goin' by," the sheriff said, "but I want you out. If you're still in my town in another half hour, well, you'll be in my jail-or dead."

"Now look, Sheriff," Adam said. "My brother and I are just eating our breakfast. We haven't broken any laws and we plan to pay not only this bill, but our hotel bill as well, so as far as I'm concerned, I'm going to stay in town just as long as I like and I don't see that you can do anything about it."

Hoss watched Adam and the sheriff nervously. Adam was too stubborn some times and took insult to his dignity too easily and too quickly. Hoss just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"C'mon, Adam," Hoss said. "Let's just pay our bill and get shed of this town. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll be home."

"Now, just a minute, Hoss. I won't let this tin badge here…"

"You just wait a minute," the sheriff said. "I don't want to put any more tombstones in that graveyard-there's already two that shouldn't be there, courtesy of you and your last visit to town. I meant what I said. Get out of my town or I'll throw your sorry ass in my jail cell and just let you rot on principle. Did I make myself clear?"

"You sure did, sheriff," Hoss said. "You done made yourself 'bout as clear as the sky this mornin'"

Adam looked at Hoss and decided not to push it anymore. "All right, Sheriff," Adam said. "We'll go but you had better remember that my name is, Adam Cartwright, not this….Driscoll."

"Well, I heard that you was callin' yourself somethin' else now, but everyone who's ever met you-or your gun knows you and we don't forget. Now you and this…friend of yours had better be gone by the time I check back." And the sheriff turned and walked away.

Adam watched the sheriff say something to the desk clerk who had watched the conversation, and then leave. Adam and Hoss looked around the room but whenever Adam's or Hoss' eyes met theirs, the person would quickly look away and a few people even rose from their seats and rapidly paid their bill in order to leave.

"Let's go and pack up," Adam said as he rose and peeled off a bill to cover the tab and more.

"Right behind you, Adam," Hoss said.

"Good. Watch my back for me. I got a bad feeling about this whole thing and I think that someone else might also confuse me for this Driscoll fellow and want their-revenge. He said there were two graves from Driscoll. People have relatives." And the two men walked up the stairs and back to their room.

In the morning, Adam paid their bill and Adam noticed that the clerk's hands shook slightly as if he suffered from a palsy instead of just fear.

"Aren't you going to ask us to come again?" Adam said. Then he gave a slight snort of disgust and he and Hoss walked out to the street, stopping to look around for a moment.

"Well, we got a beautiful day for travelin'," Hoss said. "Seem like it's a little cooler to you?"

"Mainly in peoples' attitudes, but, yeah, there's a nice breeze comin' from the north. It's about time." Adam looked around. Cottonwood was a nice city as far as Adam could tell, better than Lubbock, Texas where they had delivered the starter herd to a friend of their father's and he would have liked to spend more time in the city but he had a nagging urge to keep moving. "C'mon, let's go." Adam gestured to Hoss to head for the livery stable.

"Shame we can't stay longer," Hoss said. As they walked, he heard someone call out the name, "Driscoll." Whoever it was called the name again and then shouted "You know I'm talkin' to you! Turn around or I'll shoot you in the back."

Hoss turned around and saw a man standing in the street about fifteen feet behind them. "Adam, I think he's talkin' to us."

"Who?' Adam turned around to see where Hoss was looking. Hoss had stopped and was staring behind him.

"You talking to us?" Adam asked. The man who was really almost still a boy in his late teens, early-twenties, stood as if he was ready to draw down on them.

"You know I'm talkin' to you, you miserable son of a bitch. I'm goin' to kill you. I been waitin' and practicin' for almost six years for this day. I been goin' to go search for you but lucky for me, I found you here. I can get it over with now-you killed my two brothers and now I'm gonna kill you. If I haddena been so young then, I would've shot you then but I got my turn now. Turn around and draw, Driscoll."

"My name isn't Driscoll, it's Cartwright. I've never been in this town before and don't care if I never see it again. Now, we're going to leave, understand? So why don't you just back off." Adam turned and started walking again.

"I told you I'd shoot you in the back-and I'll shoot that fat friend of yours too."

"One," Hoss said, turning around. "I ain't his fat friend-I'm his fat brother and as he done told you, our name is Cartwright. Now just back off kid and you'll live a helluva lot longer and stay a lot more healthy too."

"I meant what I said, Driscoll," the young man shouted, his voice cracking slightly.

"He's scared, Adam. He's gonna shoot 'cause he's so scared," Hoss whispered.

"I know," Adam said, "and that's why I'm not turnin' around. I move at all and he'll shoot me." Adam recalled the feeling of being shot, of a bullet exploding into his body, causing the burning pain that took the breath away and made a person forget everything except the intense agony of a piece of metal splitting flesh and muscle and sometimes shattering bone. He waited, anticipating the pain, his nerves tense, waiting to hear the sound of a gun being pulled from leather and then the pain. 'Funny,' Adam thought, 'when you're shot, the sound of the explosion and the pain are so combined that it's hard to separate them. It's like lightning and thunder when they happen at the same time-it shakes you to the core.'

Then Adam heard another voice and this one caused his shoulders to relax a little. "Don't pull it, Rich. I'm warnin' you." It was the sheriff.

Adam didn't yet turn around.

"He killed my brothers-I got a right. A brother's got a right."

"Not accordin' to the law. Now Driscoll's leavin' and you just let him go. Understand?"

Adam couldn't hear a response so with his hands up and away from his body, he slowly turned around. The young man's, still a boy actually, face had screwed up and he was crying, his shoulders shaking. The sheriff walked up beside him and putting one hand on the boy's shoulder, reached across him and pulled out the boy's gun, talking quietly to him the whole time. Then the boy looked at him, nodded, and walked over to the side of the street. Some of the people who had seen the whole incident, went to him and a few women clucked over him and they walked him away and into the hotel to comfort him in the privacy of the lobby.

"Thank you, sheriff," Adam said as the sheriff walked up to them.

"Yeah," Hoss added. "I woulda hated to have to shoot that youngin'."

"I would've hated that too," the sheriff replied, "and that's the only reason I stopped him. I would've liked to see you shot down, Driscoll, killed like a dog in the street. I'm still tempted to do it myself."

"For the last time," Adam said, practically clenching his teeth, "I am not this Driscoll. My name is Cartwright, Adam Cartwright, and it's not an alias. This is my brother, Hoss Cartwright, and we are from the Ponderosa in Nevada territory-all right?"

"Well then, I'm surprised you boys don't recognize me," the sheriff said with a sarcastic tone, ""cause I'm your dear old daddy, Ben Cartwright."

"Very funny, sheriff." Adam readjusted the shoulder bags thrown over his shoulder.

"Anybody can claim to be anybody else and most everyone 'round here's heard of the Cartwrights and his sons, but since I know who you really are-well, don't take me for a fool and try to pass yourself off as someone else to me. If you think I believe you over my own eyes-or even come close to believing you and your lie, well, then you're more stupid than my wife's chickens."

Hoss and Adam looked at one another and then back at the sheriff.

"Now I'm gonna hold that boy under house arrest for six hours-gonna post my deputy at his door and make his momma happy, so I would suggest that you take off out of here and go anywhere else you think you might be welcomed-or not recognized. And don't-and I repeat-don't ever come here again and I mean it. That's my last warnin', understand, Driscoll?"

"Well, Sheriff, I can't get out of your lovely little hamlet soon enough," Adam said and turned to leave. But Adam made certain not to walk any faster than he normally would despite Hoss suggesting they hurry and the two of them paid the livery owner, mounted their horses and left Cottonwood.

Most of the day, Hoss and Adam rode in relative silence; Hoss tried to raise some conversation but Adam's grunts of agreement or monosyllabic answers squelched all of Hoss' efforts so they just rode until dark and Hoss complained about his stomach.

"I suppose we need to rest the horses for a while," Adam said, "so I guess it won't hurt to stop and have something to eat. Just don't unsaddle."

"What d'you mean, 'don't unsaddle.' You planning on pushin' on more tonight?" Hoss dismounted and he swore he heard Chubb give a sigh of relief.

"I want to put more distance between us and Cottonwood. I've got a bad feeling, Hoss. All the time we were riding, I kept expecting to feel a bullet in my back. My hackles have been up all day."

"You think that kid's after you?" Hoss turned his back to Adam and leaning with one hand against a tree, relieved himself. "Even if he is, we got six hours on him and he didn't look like he was a master tracker. He's just a kid. And he'd need a better horse than ours to make up that much time."

"Unless we stop and sleep and he just keeps on coming." Adam pulled a small frying pan out of his saddlebag. Adam examined the fry pan. "Hell, I don't need to cook anything tonight-there's enough food cooked onto this thing that I can scrape off a whole meal."

"He won't be able to track us in the dark and even, as good as I am at trackin', I'd have a helluva time doin' it." Hoss poured some water on his hands and then dried them by rubbing them on his trouser legs. "Can't we sleep for a few hours?" Adam had gathered some kindling and had started a fire.

"I guess for a few hours. Get some more wood, would you, Hoss? I'm gonna start this coffee and open some beans. I think we've got some hardtack left."

"Adam," Hoss said, "Who you think this Driscoll is? I mean I know he must be some gunfighter but you think he looks that much like you? Nobody done mixed you up with him before."

TBC

"Doesn't matter-they have now. And from now on, I'm gonna have to watch my back and I don't like that." Adam kneeled down by the fire and put the coffee pot on. He sat and stared at the flames caressing the metal coffeepot.

"Funny, ain't it, Adam. Your life's just goin' on fine and then in the time of just a few seconds-everything's different. Ain't nothin' the same anymore."

"Yeah," Adam said, "it's funny all right."


	2. Part 2

**PART 2**

Hoss and Adam sat on their bedrolls and ate their plates of beans and dipped their hardtack in their coffee. "Now on a ship, this is called a sea biscuit or ship's biscuit." Adam often referred to ships and sailors, often talked about going off to sea again as his grandfather and father had and traveling around the world. Hoss never liked to hear Adam talk about that; it always made him feel a yearning emptiness that he knew he would feel if Adam went away. "I read that sailors felt they also had their meat ration because they ate so many weevils at the same time."

Hoss stared at his piece of the hard cracker. "Weevils? Now I'll eat almost anything, Adam, but I don't think I could stomach any bugs in my food."

"Oh, hell," Adam said, "remember when we used to go to the Chinese market with Hop Sing when we were small? He used to drag us around to all those stalls and they sold all types of things, all types of insects, larvae, frogs, birds' nests and pickled just about anything. And remember that powder they sold for men-it was dried testicles of who knows what animal."

"Adam," Hoss said, "I'd be obliged if you'd stop talking about that kind of stuff. These beans are bad enough; I could use a change of dinner conversation." Hoss sighed. "I sure wish we had some canned peaches or even some preserves-somethin' sweet."

"Whatever you say," Adam said and went back to scraping the residual beans off his plate. He wanted to avoid what was foremost on their minds; his look-alike. But he couldn't.

"Adam, you think that Driscoll fella really looks like you? I mean I remember there was that man, that jasper what was passing himself off for you but that was just once. I don't think it could happen twice, do you?"

Adam put his empty plate on the ground and held his coffee cup in both hands; the temperature had dropped and his hands were chilly and the heated metal was warming. "He must look close enough like me that someone wants to kill me thinking I was him, and that sheriff, he was sure I was that gunman, Driscoll."

"Yeah, but…" Hoss pondered the matter.

"You know, the Germans even have a word for it." Adam looked over his cup at Hoss.

"For what?" Hoss asked.

"A word for someone who looks like another person-like that Driscoll and me. Doppelgänger-double-walker. You know it's said that there's a double for everyone which I suppose, if you look at how many people there are in the world, it's possible, maybe even probable."

"Wait," Hoss said, "you mean there's someone else in the world who looks like me?"

"Oh, God, I hope not," Adam said.

"Oh, you're funny," Hoss said. "But who's whose doppelgänger? I mean are you his or is he yours?"

"Well, now that's an interesting thought," Adam said, "especially when you look at the legend."

"Legend?" Hoss asked, leaning in to hear every word.

"Legend…superstition…whatever you want to call it. It's said that if you see your own doppelgänger, you're going to die. It's seeing your own wraith."

"You own what?"

"Your own wraith. A wraith is the vision…it's, what's the word I want? The specter of yourself. A specter is an apparition that shows up to others just before a person is to die-they don't know the person is dying at that time, they see a specter of that person and then later, they find out the person did die a little around that time. So if you see yourself, then you're supposed to die. That's the legend anyway."

"I swear, Adam, you haven't changed at all. You used to tell me and Joe all sorts of scary stories when we were little and I used to just lay there in the dark afterwards, not able to sleep. And now, here you go, tellin' stories 'bout ghosts and specters and…doppelgängers."

Adam laughed and emptied the rest of his coffee. "Well, I'm going to try to get a few hours of sleep I guess. And he stood up, stretched, put the eating utensils away, scrubbed the pan with sand, rinsed it with water and then put it beside the fire to dry. Hoss was snoring before Adam even finished and it wasn't Hoss who lay awake thinking about their conversation-it was Adam.

They rode easily for the next two days. Adam kept pushing Hoss and Hoss didn't complain about the lack of sleep-only that they were running out of food. When Chubb came up with a stone bruise, they had to stop earlier than usual for the day so Adam spent at least an hour that evening looking for something to shoot-besides Hoss, he said, and came back with a jack rabbit.

"Now you dress it while I make a spit and we'll have a nice, roasted rabbit for dinner," Adam said.

And as he sat drinking his coffee after wiping the rabbit grease off his fingers, Adam noted that they should be home in another day and a half, maybe one if they pushed a little more.

"You figure to ride straight through tonight?" Hoss asked.

"Well, if Chubb isn't more comfortable in the morning, we may end up walking for the next day. I mean if people in wagon trains can walk alongside their wagons, we can walk our horses for a while. And who knows, maybe we'll come across some homesteader who'll feed us."

"If he's homesteadin' out here," Hoss said, "I doubt he'd have enough food to feed even himself."

The next morning after a heavy sleep, Hoss made the coffee and Adam reheated what was left of the jackrabbit and as Hoss was still licking the grease off his fingers, Adam walked over to the horses and Hoss watched as Adam walked Chubb back and forth.

"Looks good, Hoss," Adam said. "But let me get on him and take him for a little walk. Tell me if he limps." Hoss nodded while Adam saddled and then mounted the black horse. Suddenly a shot rang out and Hoss dropped his cup as he reached for his six-shooter which still lay in his holster on the bedroll.

Adam fell on the ground next to the horse and now lay there, the horse side-stepping away, obviously upset. Hoss had fired a few shots at the two men as they ran away to their horses, mounted and rode away. He didn't hit either of them even though he knew he should have shot their horses out from under them but then, he didn't have the heart to kill an animal. He comforted himself with the knowledge of who one of them was and when Hoss looked at Adam slightly rocking back and forth on the ground, trying in some way to control his reaction to the pain, Adam looked up at him and asked, "It was that damn kid wasn't it?"

Hoss just nodded. "I shoulda' shot them horses to bring 'em down. I'm sorry, Adam. You want me to go after them?"

"He's riding back toward Cottonwood, right?" Adam said through gritted teeth. His shoulder felt as if bees had built a hive in it and were stinging him.

"Yeah? Like a whipped dog."

"Let him think he killed me-I'll get to him later." Adam took a quick intake of breath and blew it out. "And, Hoss, don't worry about…well, not shooting the horses-unless of course I die. Then I'll haunt you."

Hoss just pursed his lips; at least Adam still had his sense of humor. "Adam, you can't go back to Cottonwood and get that kid later-the sheriff done warned you." Hoss stopped because Adam groaned and continued his rocking, his right hand clutching his left arm.

"Get this bullet out of me…and stop the bleeding. Oh, God…Hoss, I swear, I'm gonna kill that little…oh, Jesus Christ, Hoss."

Hoss had pulled Adam's hand away from his shoulder and looked at the gunshot wound. 'Thank God,' Hoss thought, 'that kid was too dumb to use a rifle-he would've killed Adam for sure had he used one-blown a hole right through 'im.' Hoss could see the hole and the white bone beneath-and the piece of lead. "Lay still, Adam. Looks like the bullet's in your collarbone but it also looks like it's splintered part of it. That must hurt like hell."

"You always were the bright one in the family," Adam said through gritted teeth. He began to shiver.

"Let me get a fire goin' to keep you warm," Hoss said. He was afraid that if he didn't keep Adam warm, he'd go into shock. "And then I'll dig that bullet out."

"Couldn't you use another term?" Adam asked. His eyes were closed tight and his face was twisted in pain as he began to shiver even more.

Hoss didn't respond, he pulled his bed roll off the ground, shook it, and wrapped it around Adam. Then he started gathering kindling. He kept looking at Adam who still rocked, trying to contain the pain. Hoss knew what Adam was feeling; when a man's hurt, he waits for the pain to subside, he holds his breath waiting, but with a bullet in you, the pain didn't subside-it only became worse-it only built higher and greater as a man's body screamed to have it removed. So Hoss moved quickly.

Hoss finally had the fire going and put the coffeepot filled with clean water on the top of the flames. Then he pulled out the knife from his saddle bags that they had used for dressing the rabbit and other animals they had killed for their dinners on their trip back; the chuck wagon and Hop Sing was still far behind them in returning to the Ponderosa. Hoss held the knife in the fire and kept looking back at Adam. He felt a sense of panic; he wanted to ease Adam's pain quickly and he noticed that his own hands were shaking slightly. 'That won't do,' Hoss told himself. Finally, he felt that the knife was ready to be used; it was now clean and it would also cauterize the wound.

Hoss, holding the wooden handle crosswise in his teeth, leaned over Adam and tore his shirt open around the wound; the shirt was sticky with blood.

"You look like a damn pirate," Adam said, giving a weak laugh.

"Well, you never mind what I look like and if I was you, I don't think I'd be insultin' my doctor who is just about goin' to operate, so mind your manners, older brother!" Hoss paused for a moment. "This is gonna hurt-and burn. Want somethin' to bite down on?"

"Yeah, your hand."

"And I was gonna be gentle." Hoss said. "Okay-now." Hoss sliced the wound open more and Adam's body froze at the intensity of the pain and he held his breath. Hoss worked quickly; he saw the shiny bullet through the blood and mangled tissue and saying a small prayer to the heavens, he pried the bullet out and it fell onto Adam's chest. Hoss breathed a sigh of relief and told Adam to hold still because he was going back to the fire to reheat the knife; Adam was still bleeding. And then he came back and Hoss knew that just as he could, Adam could hear the sizzling blood and smell the scorched flesh. Then Hoss poured some boiling water on his kerchief and holding it by a corner to let it cool a bit, he waited. Adam seemed more relaxed now, not in such intense pain. His breathing had become more regular and he was limp and his shivering had subsided but his face was ashen.

"Here, Adam," Hoss said, "I'm goin' to clean the blood off around it. I wish I had Hop Sing's sewing kit-I'd do a fancy stitch sewing you back together again-I'd give you a scar to be proud of. I shore wish Hop Sing were here with us now 'stead of riding back with Barney in that chuck wagon-you could ride in the back. You're gonna have to ride Sport home, you know that, and we got almost another two days ahead of us now."

Adam looked at him. "Well, I figure if I can survive your ministrations, I could walk all the way back to the Ponderosa if I had too." Adam made an attempt at a smile.

"Listen, older brother," Hoss said, "I'd carry you on my back all the way home if that's what it took." Hoss looked at Adam and Adam looked up at him.

"I know, Hoss. I know. And Hoss…" Hoss looked at his brother. "Thank you."

Hoss smiled and patted Adam on his good arm. "I'll make you a sling for that hurt arm and after we rest a bit, we'll start for home.

Hoss sat, his rifle across his knees, while Adam slept. He kept looking around nervously. Now that they were further north, the foliage and topography had changed; they were no longer in the open land of Southern Arizona and Hoss wished they were; it would be easier to see if that kid, Rich, was coming up on them again but the trees and brush as well as the hilliness of the topography had made it easy for the sneaky, little bastard to shoot Adam just as he had mounted his horse.

Hoss wondered why the kid hadn't shot Adam earlier, while they were eating the leftover rabbit or drinking their coffee. Why wait? Hoss just shook his head. Maybe the kid had just come up on them. But, no, Hoss thought, I would have heard them so they must have come up on them last night or early morning. Hoss decided that it was just some perverse desire to relish watching his prey, to delight in the fact that Adam was laughing and talking and enjoying the morning sunlight on his face and that soon, when he so chose, Adam would be dead, his life extinguished.

After waiting another hour or two, Hoss gently nudged Adam awake and being careful of Adam's shoulder and arm, now held fast to him in a sling, Hoss helped him onto Sport. The rest of the arduous journey home, Hoss, riding on Adam's right side, held onto the upper sleeve of his jacket to make certain the he didn't topple over although Adam lay most of the time against his horse's neck. And by the time they reached the Ponderosa, Adam was delirious and feverish and it took almost a week before he was well enough to carry on a coherent conversation and almost two months before his collar bone was healed enough to allow him to start working on regaining his dexterity.

TBC


	3. Part 3

**PART 3**

It was winter and Reverend Dave Clayton had been trying to find a church for a year and a half, ever since he had decided to drop his real identity, that of the gun hawk Sam Driscoll, and take up religion and a new name. Dave still carried in his jacket's inner pocket, the small Bible that had stopped the bullet that saved his life. And although Dave had never been a superstitious man and certainly not a religious man, his life changed that day, that day he came up against someone faster. On that day, two years ago now, Sam Driscoll had died and Dave Clayton was born. And then, after reading the Bible that saved his life, Reverend Dave Clayton was born. Yes, Dave was born again after being baptized in the spirit-and also in a very cold river. And he began to try to live his life according to the laws God had set down and given to Moses and according to the precepts Christ preached, especially his tenant of existence-love thy neighbor as thyself. And Dave tried although sometimes he found it rough going; there were some people he found just unlovable but then he would pray for them, for forgiveness for himself and for love to be put in his heart.

He also found that he had a way with words and a certain charisma and as he had traveled around guest-preaching in churches that welcomed him or even on the street. He tried his best to imitate Christ and as He had wandered to teach the gospel, so did Dave Clayton. And when the people would grab his hand after the sermon and tell him how moved they were by his words, he would feel as if he had finally found his calling, especially when someone, with bowed head would ask him how he, a reverend, understood sin so well-understood what the congregant felt. And then Reverend Clayton would tell the person that he was a sinner as well-that all men were born in sin and one must spend one's entire life trying to extricate himself from the morass of earthly wants and desires.

When he was in Genoa, Clayton visited the pastor there, Pastor Nims, and he told Clayton that the minister in Virginia City was going to mission with the Indians in New Mexico and that the people of Virginia City were searching for a replacement minister. Pastor Nims said he would be happy to write a letter of introduction for the good reverend, especially after hearing him give the sermon as a guest minister. Clayton accepted.

So the Reverend Dave Clayton rode into Virginia City, a letter of introduction tucked into his jacket pocket alongside his Bible and he was charmed at the friendliness of the people; they waved at him from the sidewalk and a few called out, hello. Clayton waved back and he thought he heard the name Adam called out a few times but perhaps, he had misheard. Maybe they were references to the first man, Adam; he was wearing his clerical collar but his jacket was buttoned high to keep out the cold morning air. Nevertheless, he thought, there is no other explanation.

Finally, he came to the church and rode to the parsonage behind it. It was a small cottage but well-tended with twining vines that were still green and probably would remain so throughout the winter. Dave tied his horse to the hitching post and knocked on the door. It was opened by a heavyset woman who smiled at him. "Why, Adam, what a nice surprise! Come in, come in." She stepped back and Reverend Clayton stepped in, pulling off his hat.''

"I think you have me…" The Reverend started to tell her that she had him confused with someone else when she interrupted him and called out that Adam Cartwright was there and for her husband to come to the parlor. She asked "Adam" to sit and now Dave understood why some people had called him Adam; apparently he resembled this other man and it must be a close resemblance because this woman didn't see any difference.

"Why, Adam," she said, "Why are you all dressed up like a minister?"

"That's what I tried to tell you, Mrs….Young, isn't it?"

"Well, you know it is." She crossed her arms in front of her, a confused expression on her face.

"My name is Dave Clayton, Reverend Clayton and I don't know who this Adam is but I'm not him."

The minister came out from a back room, smiling, his hand extended in greeting. "Why, Adam, good to see you. If you've come to say goodbye, it'll be another week before we leave."

Dave stood with his hat in his hands and gently smiled as he took Pastor Young's hand. "Pastor, my name is David Clayton as I just told your wife and apparently I bear a passing resemblance to this man named Adam…Cartwright?"

The pastor just looked at him with narrowed eyes. "If this is some kind of joke…"

"I assure you it's not. I've come for the position you're vacating to go on mission work and I have a letter of introduction," he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the letter, "from Pastor Nims." He handed it to Pastor Young who took it from him and opened it and read it.

"Well, Reverend," Pastor Young said, "I don't know if you bearing such a close resemblance to Adam Cartwright will be a deterrent to your getting the position or not, but since I am well acquainted with Pastor Nims and respect his opinion, why don't you give the sermon this Sunday? Then the people will be able to decide if you should stay or not. In the meantime, you can stay with us. Martha will fix up the spare room for you. Every pastor I've ever met, including myself, is close with money not having much of it."

"Why thank you," Clayton said, looking to Mrs. Young and then back to the pastor. "I'll bring in my carpet bag-it's all I have. And if you'll tell me where I can find this Adam Cartwright, I think it's best I meet him before Sunday. And, " he said with a smile, "please don't tell me he's behind bars."

Pastor Young laughed. "No, no. Adam Cartwright is a respected man from a respected family. Go about four miles southeast-go straight out of town and follow the road and you'll come to the Ponderosa, the largest ranch in the territory. You'll find Adam Cartwright there. Tell him that I sent you."

Clayton thanked them both and after settling his belongings in their home, he left to find Adam Cartwright, the man who looked so much like him. He was almost at the edge of town when he heard a young woman's voice calling out "Adam." He realized, after being called that name all morning that she meant him, and when he stopped his horse and looked back to see who called, he saw the woman, almost still a girl, hurrying toward him; it seemed that she wanted to run but held herself back out of decorum even though she was wearing a riding outfit and not a dress.

She ran up to his horse and Clayton was pleased to see a beautiful, young woman with auburn hair and hazel eyes smiling up at him, open adoration in her eyes. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen years of age, no more than twenty at the most, and Clayton couldn't help but think that he wished he were Adam Cartwright if he had women such as this running after him.

"Adam," she said, "I haven't seen you in a while and I was wondering…." Then she stopped and looked at him quizzically. "Adam, something's different. What…" She backed off a bit-confused.

"Unfortunately for me, I'm not Adam Cartwright although Pastor Young told me I resemble him a great deal. I'm on my way to see Adam Cartwright now. My name is David Clayton and I've come to Virginia City in the hopes of being the new pastor. And you are…"

"Lucy Fairmont." She stood with her hands behind her back. _This man does look like Adam, she thought to herself. It's remarkable_. Yet she was aware that there was something about Adam, some indeterminate quality that Adam possessed that this man didn't, and there was something about this man, a certain peace she never sensed in Adam. Lucy stood and stared, trying to reconcile her feelings.

"Well," Clayton said, tipping his hat to her, "it's a pleasure to meet you, Lucy Fairmont, and if you're a friend of Adam Cartwright's and he hasn't seen you in a while then he's a fool-a quality I hope that he and I don't share."

Lucy stood a moment and then said, "If you'll wait while I get my horse, I'll lead you out to the Ponderosa if you like-it's about an hour's ride-more if you don't know the short cuts."

"Why, thank you," the Reverend said, "I would enjoy the company-and the guidance. I wouldn't want to wander in the desert, so to speak." He smiled at her again and Lucy stood amazed and stared at the man's resemblance to Adam, how his smile was Adam's smile. And so Lucy went to get her horse that was tied up a few storefronts down and the two rode out together, Lucy sneaking sidelong glances at the man who looked so much like the Adam she loved.

"So, Mr. Clayton, or should I call you Reverend Clayton or Pastor Clayton?"

"Why don't you just call me, Dave," he said grinning. Lucy couldn't help but smile back; he had the same warm, open smile that Adam had and for a moment, Lucy felt as if she was with Adam-and it suddenly frightened her that she could feel that way. And it was as if Adam's body had been taken over by a stranger. "How long have you known Adam Cartwright?" Dave asked.

"Since I was about six. I used to spend my afternoons-well, to be honest-as much time as I could there. I was, and still am, friends with his youngest brother, Joe. Actually, all of them."

"All of them?" Clayton asked. "How many are there?"

"Adam has two brothers and then there's his father, Ben Cartwright." Lucy watched what she was saying; she wanted to spill over about Adam, to tell how wonderful he was, to confess how much she loved him, how she always had and how he treated her as if she was a fly landing on his face, always brushing her away but just why she wanted to tell this man, she didn't know. Maybe because he was a stranger, Maybe because she could confess her love to this double of Adam's and it would feel the same. But she didn't.

"From the look you gave me when you thought I was him, well, I'd say that you're in love with Adam Cartwright-at least that was the impression I received. You shouldn't wear your heart so openly." Dave looked at the young woman who blushed deeply. He knew the look of a woman in love and although Lucy Fairmont was young, she obviously had the heart of a woman and Adam Cartwright had won it whether he wanted it or not. And Clayton felt envy, something he knew was a sin.

Lucy just glanced over at Dave Clayton and said, "I don't want to talk about it," and stepped up her horse.

"Whoa there, Lucy," Dave said, laughing. "My poor horse is about worn out with all the traveling he's done lately. Slow down, please."

Lucy held her horse back until she matched pace with Dave.

"Please don't ask me about Adam anymore-I won't tell you anything." Lucy looked at Dave, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set in determination. She was so confused, so upset about this man with Adam's face but not his temperament, that she was thrown. She needed to think. She knew that Adam had been shot, almost killed through a misidentification; Joe told her that someone had mistaken him for a hired gun named Driscoll but this man was a pastor so it couldn't be he. But yet, Lucy thought, how many people could there be who resembled her darling Adam enough to be mistaken for him? Lucy also knew that Adam had been confused with another man a few years ago but he had later said that when people looked closely at him, particularly the man's wife, they had said that there were slight similarities but not enough to make them dead-ringers for one another, but close enough to fool. And this man's voice was different. Yes, Lucy thought, Reverend Clayton has a slight Texas twang to his voice, unlike Adam's cultured speaking voice. And he doesn't have the scars on his face that Adam earned in barroom brawls or in accidents on the ranch, particularly the cheek scar that he wouldn't speak of. And now Adam had another scar, the one on his shoulder, his collar bone. She wondered if, when this man took off his shirt, there would be scars and then Lucy was ashamed of herself for wondering what the Reverend riding beside her would look like disrobed. She had wondered such about Adam many a time, especially when he was working without a shirt, but this was a man of God riding beside her. _I'm surely going to hell now, Lucy thought._

They basically rode the rest of the way to the Ponderosa in silence with the Reverend commenting occasionally upon the beauty of the landscape, asking if she thought it was going to snow and remarking on the wildlife. He commented on the fact that Lucy had a hunting rifle in a scabbard attached to her saddle and asked her if she could use it. Lucy said that she could but that she didn't like to hunt. With all the ranch-raised beef and such, she saw no reason to slaughter any wildlife and then the Reverend quoted Genesis and how God gave man dominion over all.

Lucy answered with, "The only thing that I would have no qualms about shooting is a man-they're far more dangerous than any deer or bear I've happened to come upon." And Reverend Clayton laughed loudly and remarked that Lucy was a charming, little thing and that Adam Cartwright was a fortunate man to know such a clever girl. And he was sincere; he envied this Adam, this man he hadn't met and then he chastised himself. Here, he had just arrived at Virginia City and within an hour's time, he was guilty of both envy and lust; he envied Adam Cartwright and he lusted after this young woman. He was aware of his weaknesses and knew that he was a mere man and therefore, vulnerable to such things, but this young woman, he thought she was tempting. He told himself that he would have to meditate in prayer tonight and hope and pray for strength.

Hoss was in the front yard lunging a horse when he heard sounds of hooves. He slowed the horse and reined it in and then walked over to the road coming into the Ponderosa, he recognized Lucy's little, grey, Appaloosa pony and then his breath caught. He stood open-mouthed when Lucy and Reverend Clayton rode up.

"Well, I'll be damned," Hoss said. "I'd never've believed it in a thousand years." Then he remembered that Lucy was there. "Oh, excuse me, Miss Lucy, I didn't mean to curse in front of you-it's just that-I…"

"It's all right, Hoss," Lucy said dismounting, "I showed Reverend Clayton here, how to get to the Ponderosa and save himself some traveling time. Is Adam here?"

"Yeah, Lucy, he's inside." Hoss stared at the man who had dismounted and walked over to him. Hoss examined the man's face.

"Hoss, this is Reverend David Clayton-this is Hoss Cartwright, Adam's brother." Lucy looked from one of the men to the other. Hoss was as perplexed and amazed as she had been at the resemblance between Dave Clayton and his brother and closely examined Clayton as he shook his hand.

"I can't believe it," Hoss said. "Dadgummit, I just can't believe it. C'mon, let's go in the house." And Hoss led both Lucy and Clayton into the house and when they were inside the front door, Ben Cartwright stood up from the chair he was sitting in and smoking his pipe.

"Lucy," he said, smiling, "how nice to…" and then he stopped. He stared at the man with them. Clayton turned and looked at Lucy and she just slightly shrugged. "Come in," Ben managed to get out, "come in."

"Hey, Adam," Hoss called out. "C'mon down. Your doppelgänger's here." Hoss turned and looked at Clayton and grinned. Lucy looked at Clayton, having no idea what Hoss was talking about and then she looked at Ben who was still stunned by this man who looked so much like his son.

"What are you talking about?" Adam said as he came down the stairs. And then he stopped at the first landing, his hand on the balustrade. Then he continued and came face to face with Dave Clayton, face to face with the man who looked so much like him and, smiling wryly, the first words out of his mouth were, "I'll be damned, Sam Driscoll."

Reverend Clayton sighed heavily. "I'm Reverend Clayton now. Sam Driscoll, as far as I'm concerned, died a little over two years ago. He no longer exists."

"He still exists to a hell of a lot of people," Adam said, "and he almost got me killed. And because of Sam Driscoll, I've been having to watch my back for the last few months. Now I want to know who you are and why you say Sam Driscoll is dead."

Lucy looked at the two men standing face to face. Adam was a bit taller and although he may not have been, he looked stronger, more powerfully built despite his having only recovered for a few months from his gunshot injury. And Adam had the start of grey at his temples while Clayton's hair was still almost jet black. But they were both handsome men and their mouths were similar, gentle and full. Lucy sighed to relieve the tension that was building inside her. She suddenly felt light-headed.

"Please," Ben said, "sit down everyone. Here. Lucy, sit down and…Reverend Clayton, please, sit. Hop Sing!" Ben yelled. "Hop Sing, bring out some coffee, please." Ben heavily sat down.

Hop Sing came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. "Why you yell for Hop Sing. Yell and yell. Oh, Miss Lucy. Nice see you here and who…" Hop Sing stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the Reverend. "Who you? Mistah Adam, who this man?" Hop Sing's brow furrowed in suspicion. "Bad luck-bad luck."

"Hop Sing, it's not bad luck and who he is, we're going to find out," Adam said with a small, crooked grin. "Would you bring out some coffee?"

"I bring coffee," Hop Sing turned to Lucy. "And because Miss Lucy here, Hop Sing bring out cookies. I have ginger cookies you like, Miss Lucy."

"Thank you, Hop Sing. My, my, this is turning out to be a special day for me," She said. Hop Sing grinned and then dropped his smile when he looked again at the Reverend. And after giving Clayton one more stern look, he left for the kitchen, mumbling under his breath in Chinese. Lucy wanted to say that it was a special day because she was not only going to have Hop Sing's special ginger cookies, but she also had two Adams but chose to remain silent.

So while they drank coffee and nibbled on cookies, Dave Clayton told them about how he had once been Sam Driscoll, the hired gun, and that his life was saved by a Bible that he carried that stopped the bullet. He pulled out the Bible that he always carried in his inside pocket and showed it to them. He said that he felt it was a sign so he read the Bible while he was hiding out, encouraging the rumor that Sam Driscoll was dead, and he was so inspired by what he read that he changed not only his name, but his life. He changed his ways and now dedicated himself to trying to convert others to a Christian life.

"Well," Hoss said, "Adam's life was once saved by a book of poetry but he didn't change his name to Shakespeare and become a poet." Everyone laughed and the tension was relieved somewhat.

"So," Adam said, "there are still people who haven't heard you're dead or don't believe it. I'm proof of that." And Adam and Hoss proceeded to tell Clayton about their visit to Cottonwood and how Adam was almost killed by a young man who claimed that Sam Driscoll shot down both his brothers. Clayton said he remembered the incident, explained how he had no choice in that matter; he remembered it well because their deaths were so useless. He had been passing through Cottonwood and a man challenged him, forced him into accepting the challenge. But unbeknownst to him, the man's brother was waiting outside as well, waiting to shoot him before he even had a chance to draw. Clayton said that his instinct and experience told him that there was something not right.

"The small hairs on the back of your neck stand up so you watch a man's eyes and I noticed that he kept glancing to the side of me. I knew someone was there so I did what I had to do-cut both of them down. And then I remember this boy came running out of a building and started screaming at me, ran up to me and began swinging at me, swearing that one day he'd kill me. That must've been the one who shot you thinking you were me. For that I'm deeply sorry. I wish I could make it up to you."

"I wish you could too," Adam said.

"Adam!" Lucy chastised Adam. "It's not his fault. It's just a…fluke of nature that he looks so much like you…or you, him. I just…" Lucy gave a deep sigh and looked back and forth; the resemblance upset her.

"Yeah," Hoss said, "who looks like who?"

"Well," Clayton said, "I'll be thirty in two months. You?" He looked at Adam.

"He'll be thirty-two," Lucy said and when everyone turned to look at her, she blushed. Adam chuckled.

"Thank you, Lucy. She knows more about me than I do," Adam explained to Clayton who laughed and responded that Adam was a lucky man to have found someone so pretty to fend for him and then told him about how Lucy had refused to talk about him, to reveal anything to him about Adam.

"No. It's just that…" Lucy was flustered and looked around. "I should be getting back…my parents don't know I'm here and it's almost dinner. Reverend? We need to get back." Lucy stood up and all the men did too.

"Now, Lucy," Ben said, "why don't you and the Reverend stay for dinner? Joe should be home any time now."

"No," Lucy said, "thank you, but I need to get back. But Reverend Clayton…"

"Dave…remember?" He smiled at Lucy and she caught her breath again-he looked so much like her Adam that he brought out the feelings she harbored or had harbored just for him. But Clayton muddied the clarity of her feelings for Adam.

"Yes, Dave. Please stay and get to know the Cartwrights better, especially if you're going to be the new minister; you'll cross paths many times, but I have to get back home." Lucy walked over to get her jacket and Ben followed her and helped her with it, holding it for her to slip on.

"Then I had better leave," Clayton said, "since I'm afraid that I won't be able to find my way back to town in the dark without my personal guide."

"Don't worry none about that," Hoss said. "I'll ride back with you; I want to go to town tonight anyway. Stay and let's get to know you better."

"Do," Adam said, "but excuse me for a minute while I walk Lucy out." Lucy turned when she heard Adam say that but continued to button up her jacket. Adam walked over and opened the front door and then, with a slight nod, motioned for her to go ahead of him.

She nervously pulled her gloves on as she stood by her horse. She knew that she gave herself away when she had answered for Adam; her open adoration of him had always been a source of embarrassment but she couldn't hide it. Dave Clayton had been right-she openly wore her emotions.

"So you're through with school," Adam said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her and couldn't help but think how pretty she was-he always thought about how pretty she was, even as a young girl, running around with Joe and causing havoc around the ranch. Adam remembered the tree house she and Joe built years ago; there were still remnants of it in the large oak at the edge of the clearing and Adam had intended to knock it down last month but in the last moment, couldn't do it. She and Joe would clamber up it and try to hide whenever they had done something wrong-gotten into trouble. And Adam remembered when Lucy's father came out once to bring her home and she had said no to him and ran and hid in the tree house and her father didn't know where she was. Adam was reluctant to tell him where she probably was but he did and her father had pulled her down and slapped her and Adam regretted his own actions to that day.

"Yes, I'm finished but my parents want me to go to Europe on a 'grand tour' again. They want me to see the famous buildings and museums of Rome and Paris and, well, they want me to know about those things." She brushed her hair out of her face with a gloved hand; the wind was picking up.

"You should go. I went on a 'grand tour' and feel that it opened my mind to different ideas and experiences. You should go and enjoy yourself."

"I want to stay here," Lucy said, both her voice and her eyes dropping.

"Why, Lucy?" Adam reminded himself that she was only nineteen. Despite the feelings she aroused in him whenever he was around her, she was young, Joe's age, so he made sure to keep her at arm's length. He couldn't overcome his feelings that she was physically off-limits despite his attraction to her.

She raised her eyes and looked at him, "Now you sound like my parents. Does it matter why?"

"No," Adam answered, "I guess it doesn't." He watched as Lucy mounted her horse and stepped back as she began to turn her horse to leave. "Oh, Lucy, I'm just curious. When you saw Clayton, did you know it wasn't me? I mean, could you tell?" He looked up at her. He wasn't sure what he wanted her to say-or why he had asked her.

"When he rode by me, even though he wore different clothes and rode a different horse, his profile-his nose and chin-that's what made me think he was you. But then after a few words, I knew it wasn't. It was so odd-he looked like you but it wasn't you."

"So you could tell?"

"Yes. I could tell. For one, he actually smiled when he saw me-unlike you, Adam. That's really how I knew."

"Now, Lucy, that's not true." Adam complained. "I'm always glad to see you."

She paused for a few minutes and watched Adam. He pursed his lips as if thinking about saying something else so she prodded him. "Why don't you ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

She grinned. "If I think he's more handsome than you."

Adam chuckled. "Okay. Do you think he's more handsome' than I am?"

Lucy bent down slightly to be closer to Adam. "No. He's just prettier-that's all." And watching him stand speechless, Lucy kicked her horse into moving and rode away and Adam watched her as she left.

"Damn that girl," he muttered to himself. "When did she go from being annoying to being desirable?" He gave a deep sigh and went back into the house.

TBC


	4. Part 4

PART 4

Hoss and Clayton rode at an easy canter most of the way back to town, slowing their horses to a walk when needed. Hoss knew the way to Virginia City so well that he knew exactly when to slow down and so Clayton watched and kept his horse to the same pace as Hoss'.

Hoss had asked specific questions about Clayton's life as Driscoll and his new life now and Hoss came to believe that Clayton was sincere. Hoss found that he liked Dave and trusted him. And although Dave and Adam looked alike, they weren't alike; Hoss realized that Adam had an intensity about him that was born of watching so much suffering and being so lonely as a child. Clayton had, he told Hoss, a happy childhood but that he had seen a gun fight as a small boy and wanted to be like the victor. So Clayton had practiced all his youth at drawing a fast gun-and he learned quickly and developed the agility. But as he aged, he told Hoss, he began to slow down until he realized after being shot-in the Bible, he joked- that he would soon be dead. So, with his blessings, Sam Driscoll did die at the young age of twenty-eight and Dave Clayton was born-reborn actually like a phoenix from the flames. He and Hoss laughed and then Clayton asked Hoss if he was born again into the spirit.

"Now, Dave," Hoss said, "I been born once and that was enough for me. I'll let you know if I feel the need to be baptized but until then I'll just keep goin' to church and if you preach so well that I feel the need to go jump into a river, I'll let you know." The two men laughed. Clayton held no resentment for people who resisted being baptized-he believed that it was what was in a man's heart that counted and if they loved their neighbor as themselves, they were truly children of God no matter what else they did.

"Let me ask you something," Clayton asked. "The man who tried to kill Adam what did Adam do about it? Did he turn the other cheek, so to speak?"

"No, Adam didn't so much turn the other cheek, but realize that he weren't goin' to die, but he very well might iffen he went lookin' for that kid-and he didn't know what he would do when he found 'im. Besides, he was just a kid and Adam done told me that if that kid was anything like Joe, well, he could understand why he would want to kill the man who killed his two brothers."

Finally Hoss and Clayton entered Virginia City. "Don't suppose you'd join me in a beer," Hoss said, grinning.

"No, I don't think that a minister should indulge in spirits-maybe a little wine upon occasion." He gave Hoss a wink.

'Just like Adam,' Hoss thought. Hoss was surprised how many mannerisms the two men shared and it was always eerie.

"But the only thing that should alter a man's senses," Clayton continued, "is prayer. But…well, there is one thing I am curious about," Clayton said. "That young girl, Lucy, is she, well, does Adam have any claim on her?" Clayton was glad it was dark because he felt himself flush like a schoolboy. For some reason, Lucy Fairmont disturbed him. He had been celibate since he had heard the calling but now he desired Lucy. He knew that he, as a minister, was allowed to find a wife and marry, was even encouraged to do so, but he hadn't felt this way about anyone, hadn't been so attracted to any woman like this and he knew that tonight as he lay in his bed, he would have difficulty falling asleep-that Lucy's lovely face would be before his eyes and his feelings for her would run through his veins.

Hoss grinned. "Why, Reverend, I'm a little surprised. You can't drink no beer but you can…um…want a woman."

"Ministers are allowed to take wives and although I'm not saying that I'm going to marry Miss Fairmont, I do find her charming-delightful actually-and I look forward to seeing her again if she doesn't hold my former life against me after knowing about it. But if your brother has a prior claim to her…"

"Nope. Adam ain't got no claim on her," Hoss said, stopping his horse in front of the Bucket of Blood saloon. "Lucy, well, she done had a schoolgirl crush on Adam since she was a little one. Always followed him around the Ponderosa whenever she could. Adam called her Tag-along Lucy to tease her and then we all just done it. She used to get so mad, 'specially when Joe teased her 'bout Adam and called her that name. She would light into Joe and one of us would have to pull her off 'im. He had a few black eyes and bruised cheeks from her." Hoss chuckled.

Clayton gave a small laugh. "Well, if Adam has no claim on her…"

"Since she likes Adam so much, I'd say that you got a good chance of winnin' her easy," Hoss said, still sitting on Chubb's back. "I hate to talk against my own brother, but Adam, well, he's been kinda interested in a woman round here, seeing her every so often-Miss Daphne, and he sorta always just brushed Lucy away although none of us can understand it now that she's grown and she sure is a pretty one and smart like Adam. But then we wouldn't be surprised none iffen in a few months, Adam and Daphne become-what's that word? Engaged. See, even the word gives me the crawlies," Hoss said with a shiver.

Clayton laughed and thanked Hoss for the information and for bringing him back to town and as he rode to the parsonage, Clayton wondered about Lucy.

Lucy sat in bed, her arms around her knees, the moonlight streaming in. Every time she had any dealings with Adam, it upset her but tonight she was more upset than usual. For one, she was upset that Adam was encouraging her to go to Europe. Lucy knew that he had been seen squiring Miss Bryant around and that, in and of itself, had caused her so much heart sickness that it kept her awake and crying many a night. Every time she saw them together, her heart broke and yet she couldn't stay away from anyplace they may be-not church or the few dances that had happened since she had been home from school. And Adam wanted her gone, or at least it seemed that way to her.

And then there was Dave. Lucy found that she was drawn to him. She wondered if it was because he looked so much like Adam or because he had paid attention to her. He was, as she had told Adam, prettier than Adam was. He had a gentleness about him that Adam didn't have but Lucy had always found that edge to Adam most attractive-when he was angry or being stubborn, she found herself most desirous of him. But being just nineteen, Lucy couldn't understand and sort all her feelings that swirled around her. She felt strong sexual feelings for both Adam and Dave-but Adam, ah, he was her first love. And yet there was Dave who seemed to like her, who smiled at her and had let her know he found her pretty. And yet, when Adam had walked her out, she had hoped that Adam would kiss her-but he didn't and so she was disappointed again. "But Sunday," she said out loud into the darkness, "this Sunday I'll see them both again." So she lay down and thought about what she would wear and how she would go about getting both men's attention and she didn't fall asleep until it was early morning.

That Sunday, Adam was anxious about going to church; he knew that people would be amazed at the resemblance between him and Clayton. Adam had lain awake the night that he had met Clayton and thought about the man and what he had said about his past. As foolish as it was, Adam resented that Clayton looked like him. After all, Adam thought, he was born first-he had prior claim in his looks and at dinner, as they had talked, Hoss said that it was Clayton who was Adam's doppelgänger and then Hoss had repeated the story that Adam told him. Hoss kept expecting Adam to interrupt him as he usually did as he told the story but Adam sat silent. And although Adam wasn't superstitious, the idea that seeing one's double-walker meant imminent death gave him a sick feeling like lead in his stomach. And he resented that Lucy seemed to like Clayton and he, her. Although, Adam admitted to himself, he hadn't ever given Lucy any idea of how he felt about her; she was the same young age as Joe so he felt he shouldn't. So he resisted telling her that he thought she was a delectable beauty and often wondered what it would be like to enjoy her but he still was upset over what she had said about Clayton being "prettier." Lucy, he felt, was his. He admitted that he was being irrational but it was Lucy, despite his refusal to act upon it, who had caused him to groan many a night as he thought of kissing her white skin and Clayton had no right to her affections.

Joe had mentioned to Hoss the next day that Adam hadn't been particularly friendly to Clayton-even seemed to dislike him-and wondered if Lucy had anything to do with it. Although Adam wasn't sweet on Lucy, "You know how Adam is," Joe had told Hoss, "he gets these ideas in his head and there's no changing his mind. Lucy's always been crazy about him and although he never did anything about it, now here's someone who looks like him and gets along just fine with Lucy. I think he's jealous"

"Might be," Hoss said, pondering on it. He told Joe how Clayton had asked about Lucy and whether or not Adam had any claim on her. "But I figure it's more that Adam don't like the fact that Clayton almost got him killed. And don't forget," Hoss added, "don't tell nobody that Clayton used to be a man named Sam Driscoll." They had all agreed that they would keep Clayton's secret, Driscoll's secret, just between them.

TBC


	5. Part 5

**PART 5 **

Sunday morning, Clayton found himself nervously trying to attach his collar in front of the mirror in the anteroom in the back of the church. He didn't know what to expect when the congregation saw him; he had basically stayed in the parsonage for the past two days working on a sermon and had only gone out a few times; Pastor Young had taken him around and introduced him to the people who had sway as to whom would be the next pastor and Pastor Young felt that if he backed Clayton openly with these congregants, then Clayton would be a shoo-in. Clayton had sat politely in their parlors drinking tea or coffee and always answered that, yes, he had met Adam Cartwright and that, yes, the resemblance was amazing. Then the people would scrutinize him and say that now that they looked closely, he and Adam didn't resemble each other so much after all. And Clayton would smile to himself.

After finally adjusting his collar properly, Clayton and Pastor Young waited in the presbytery for services to begin and the Pastor remarked that the church was filled to overflowing-that people were actually standing in the back.

"They've come to see the freak show," Clayton said, running a finger around the inside of his collar. Despite the cold weather outside, Clayton was sweating. He was anxious, not only about the sermon he was to deliver but about Lucy; would she be there? And would Adam Cartwright be there?

"They're just curious," Pastor Young said. "Besides, I believe it must be God's will; I leave next Monday and next Sunday will be my last sermon. They need to decide if the new pastor will be you or not and I would like to know if my church is being left in your good hands so the more people here, this morning the better." Pastor Young smiled warmly and Dave relaxed.

"I suppose that I should practice what I'm going to preach and leave it in the hands of God," Clayton said. "I wish I could be more faithful." Pastor Young put his hand on Dave's shoulder and told him that no man was perfect and there was no perfect faith. Besides, he had said, the people in Virginia City came face to face with sin and degradation and potential loss of faith every time they stepped out their front door and saw another drunken cowboy or a whore hanging out a window calling to a man in the street or when trying to get extended credit at the mercantile. To preach to them was easy because they desired comfort.

Lucy sat in the pew that she and her parents always occupied and the Cartwrights sat in their usual pew up front. But this time, Adam stood in the back alone; he didn't want to be down in the front, practically face to face with Clayton and he had avoided Daphne, a woman he saw occasionally as well, who would have asked him to sit with her. Actually, he wanted to stand where he could see the whole congregation and their reaction to Clayton; people had stopped him on the way in and asked if he knew about the new reverend and that he looked like Adam. Adam answered them politely but hurriedly passed. So he stood in the back with a few other parishioners who couldn't squeeze into a pew and waited.

Pastor Young came out from the drapes behind the altar and the congregation hushed. He told them that they had a guest minister that morning, reverend David Clayton, whom he wished they would welcome and then he turned and held out his hand and Clayton walked out and went up to the altar. At first, there was a general hush and then a buzz of voices as people confirmed to one another that the new pastor did look like Adam Cartwright. People craned their necks trying to find Adam and when they spotted him standing in the back holding his hat in one hand, the other hand clasping the opposite wrist, they looked back and forth between the two men-one in the front, one in the back of the church-and then nodded their heads to their spouses or friends to confirm that yes, the two men did look alike.

Dave looked around and when he saw Lucy and caught her eye, he smiled and she blushed and dipped her head. Adam moved slightly to see who Clayton was smiling at although he was pretty sure he knew-and he did; Clayton had smiled at Lucy and jealousy built up in him. How could Lucy be so unfaithful as to turn her adoration to this man, this gunfighter, this….poor imitation of him. And he clenched his jaw as Reverend Clayton smiled beneficently to the congregation and began to speak.

"I have come here to speak to you today, not as a man who has mastered himself and his weaknesses, but as one of you, an ordinary man who has as much the proclivity to sin as any other man does." Clayton paused and surveyed the people sitting before him intently listening and suddenly he felt accepted. He wondered if part of it was the fact that he looked so familiar to them, that all the high regard the people of Virginia City held for the Cartwrights didn't include him. But if that were so, it was a blessing and he wouldn't question it but just give thanks. "Life is hard for everyone and every day, each one of us, no matter how needy, how rich, how attractive of face, struggles to survive but take comfort in the promise of the Lord: Take no thought, saying, what shall we drink? Or wherewithal shall we be clothed? For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things, but seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you."

The congregation sat mesmerized, but Adam grunted to himself. He felt the sermon was nothing but an insult to his family and their wealth and his resentment against Clayton grew greater. And after the sermon, when the collection plate was passed around, Adam slipped out and saw Clayton and the Pastor coming around from the back to meet the congregants as they exited.

"What? No donation?" Clayton asked lightly; Adam who gave him a wry smile.

"My 'daddy' gave me two bits to donate-here." Adam dug in his pocket for the money and then slapped the coins in Clayton's palm. "For the excellent sermon against those people who worry about the future and prepare for the worst; such a despicable trait." The two men stood face to face.

"Now, gentlemen," Pastor Young said, placing himself between them, "let's not have any petty bickering. Ah, here they come now." Pastor Young took his place beside the door and Clayton stood beside him but gave Adam one last glance before he turned his attention to the introductions and to receive the effusive compliments on his sermon.

Adam stood a way off and watched; he wanted to see Clayton and Lucy together and once he did, he wished he hadn't. Lucy, dressed in shades of violet, smiled up at Clayton as he took her hand but that wasn't what roiled Adam, it was that Clayton looked down at Lucy and his face actually changed; he looked like a man in love. And Adam wanted to turn and look elsewhere but he couldn't take his eyes off them. He watched Lucy introduce Clayton to her parents. 'They must be thrilled,' Adam thought, 'to have the good reverend interested in their daughter.' And then he wondered if they knew about Clayton's past and he also wondered what they would do if he told them, if he told them that their daughter whom they had sent away so that Adam wouldn't want her, was now the object of desire of a hired gun. He pictured the scenario in his mind, how Lucy's parents would be shocked and appalled to know the truth, and Adam felt satisfaction at the idea that they would realize that they had, so to speak, taken their precious daughter out of the frying pan and thrown her into the fire. But he knew he wouldn't tell them, even if it would quench the jealousy eating him, consuming him and causing the fire that burned behind his eyes. He wouldn't tell them-he wouldn't tell anyone.

And Adam didn't even notice that Hoss had walked over to him and stood beside him. "You noticed too, huh?"

"What?" Adam swung around to look at Hoss. "Notice what?"

"Why Dave and Lucy. He done asked me about her that night we rode back to town. He wanted to know iffen you had any claim on her."

"I hope you told him no." Adam tried to sound offended.

"Yeah, I told him no, but I also told him that since Lucy done had a crush on you for so long that he might find it easy goin' to get her to be set on him-you done blazed the way." Hoss had a slight smile; Adam didn't fool him. Hoss recognize that intense look on Adam's face-so fixed on the target that Hoss could just waltz up to him and him not even notice.

"Well," Adam said, gathering himself and moving toward his horse, "they both have my blessings." And he mounted his horse and turned for home, ignoring that Daphne was starting to head toward him. Adam didn't want to talk to her, didn't want to talk to anyone. He needed to think and sort out his feelings about Clayton-and Lucy.

And at dinner, Adam ate but didn't take part in the conversation and banter until Joe brought up Dave Clayton and Lucy. Apparently, Joe said, Lucy's parents had invited Clayton to their home for Sunday dinner and he had accepted. Joe said that he believed that Clayton would probably be the next minister; he gave a good sermon and Hoss concurred saying that he hadn't dozed off even once. Ben laughed and said that was all the qualification that he needed to vote in Clayton. Besides, Ben added, he liked Clayton.

"What do you think, Adam?" Joe asked. "What'd you think of his sermon?"

"It was a sermon-that's all. Pastor Young's given better. Hell, I've given better to you two when you were in some mess and Pa's given better to me." Adam clanked his fork against his plate as he laid it across to indicate he was finished. "Now," he said, "the sign of the cross on this Sunday." He picked up his knife and laid it across the fork. "Knife and fork he never lays, cross-wise to my recollection, as I do, in Jesu's praise."

"What?" Hoss asked. Ben and Joe looked at Adam, puzzled.

"Nothing. It's from a poem." Adam looked around the table at his family. "I'm willing to bet that I know more about religion and the traditions of the church than Clayton does. And since he's a counterfeit, what else is he being deceitful about." Adam looked straight at Joe. "And I think that you should warn Lucy. He might pretend that he cares for her as well. She needs to watch out." And Adam stood up and throwing his napkin on the table, walked away and upstairs to his room to be alone.

About an hour later, Adam heard the knock on his door that he recognized as his father's; he didn't know how he always knew who it was knocking on his door, but just as he recognized their footsteps, he recognized their knocks.

"Come in, Pa." Adam sat at his desk, sketching.

Ben opened the door, walked in and then stood behind Adam. Adam never raised his head. "What are you sketching?"

"Well, I was thinking how we could build a new barn and make much better use of the areas inside. Now see," Adam sat back, glancing up at his father and then pointing with his pencil, "here we can put in three stalls instead of just two and still have room for the hay bales. Really, all we need to do is extend this area here on the eastern side." Adam looked at his father again.

"That is interesting." Ben walked over to the bookcase while Adam sat silently as his father looked at the titles and then pulled out a book, As soon as Adam saw the cover, he knew what is was, Aesop's Fables. "Remember when I used to read you these even though you were capable of reading them to me. We became closer that way. You and your books, Adam. Always reading."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Adam swung one arm over the back of his chair so that he could twist and see his father.

Ben laughed. "No, it's not a bad thing if you learn something from what you read."

Adam arched his brows. He wondered what his father was up to. Adam was familiar enough with his father's way of introducing topics that Adam would refuse to discuss had he been approached another way. Ben sat down on Adam's bed. There was still enough natural light that he could see the words without turning on a lamp. He pulled out his glasses and put them on, turned to a specific page and then began to read.

**"It happened that a Dog had got a piece of meat and was carrying it home in his mouth to eat it in peace. Now on his way home he had to cross a plank lying across a running brook. As he crossed, he looked down and saw his own shadow reflected in the water beneath. Thinking it was another dog with another piece of meat, he made up his mind to have that also. So he made a snap at the shadow in the water, but as he opened his mouth the piece of meat fell out, dropped into the water and was never seen more. The moral of the fable is, one who covets everything often loses everything."**

Adam smiled grimly at his father. "And what am I supposed to take from this little fable?"

"Well, Adam, you don't want Lucy but you don't want Dave to have her either. Now that's not quite fair. Besides, you have Daphne-at least you've been escorting her regularly, seeing her. You need to decide who you want and focus on that. Lucy or Daphne. Make up your mind, Adam, or you may end up with no one."

"Well, now, I remember another story. Let me see…it goes along the lines of…Once there was a prince who trained a group of monkeys to dance and every night they put on a show much to everyone's delight. But one night, one of the prince's subjects decided to have some fun so he threw a handful of nuts on the stage and when the monkeys saw the nuts, they scrambled for them, ripping off the clothing in which they had been dressed as they fought with one another over the food. And the moral of this story is that not everything you see is what it appears to be; one is what one is." Adam sat and waited for his father's reaction.

"Well," Ben said, "I suppose you've got me there." he placed the book back on the shelf. "Do you think that because Dave looks so much like you that Lucy thinks that he is or do you think that Clayton will revert to Driscoll?"

"I don't know, Pa. It seems a little vain of me to think that Lucy could fall in love with him because he looks like me…but…I don't know, Pa. I look at him and all I feel is anger. I guess I'm afraid that he's a better version of me although I'm hoping he's worse. But if he's what Lucy wants then she should have him, but, damn it all, Pa, I can't get used to it-to losing her schoolgirl adoration. I…don't misunderstand, I know Lucy's too young, too, too…but, Pa, when I saw her look at Dave today, I was eaten up with jealousy. I wanted to shoot that son of a bitch."

Ben smiled at Adam, at his honesty with himself and marveled again at his oldest son. He was a good man. "You didn't ask for my advice, Adam, but if you had…"

"Oh…what do you think I should do, Pa?" Adam sat, a crooked half-grin on his face.

"Since you asked," Ben answered, smiling, "I think that you should turn your attentions to Daphne-cultivate her affections. Let Lucy be and let her relationship with Dave, if there is going to be one, follow its own course. That's my advice." Ben stood with his hand on the doorknob.

"Excellent advice, Pa. And I just may follow it—or I may not."

TBC


	6. Part 6

**PART 6**

The months passed and Adam came to accept Dave Clayton as part of his life although he still begrudged him Lucy's affections; Clayton was courting Lucy. Adam, because he felt he should and also because he didn't want to expose his heart, was gracious. He wasn't warm to Clayton but he went to church every Sunday and sat politely through the sermons and yawned occasionally while Daphne Bryant sat next to him. But slowly, his attraction to Daphne cooled and he eventually went back to sitting in the front pew with the rest of his family where he would make it obvious that he was bored; he wanted to annoy Clayton and he did. He also hoped that perhaps Daphne would be attracted to the Minister, his doppelgänger, and that Lucy would lose favor with Dave when she had a more sophisticated rival, but it didn't happen.

But what annoyed Adam the most was that everyone, including his own family, liked Dave Clayton very much. "Every man has a right to start anew," Ben had said when Adam had made protestations about Clayton being so readily accepted by the citizens of Virginia City when he wasn't who he said he was, so Adam learned not to say anything against the minister to anyone. He wanted support, wanted someone to dislike Clayton as much as he did but could find no one. It wasn't that Adam really thought Clayton was devious, he just hoped he was. Then Adam could tell everyone that he had been telling them all along about Clayton and they should have listened.

It was a beautiful spring day and Adam was in town getting supplies when he ran into Dave Clayton who was ready to go into the store. Dave put out his hand and Adam shook it with a definite lack of enthusiasm.

"You buying food, Dave?" Adam asked. "I thought that you lived on the word of God."

Dave gave a small laugh. "No, we ministers also need bread." Adam went back to adjusting the sacks of flour and coffee and the cartons of canned goods in the back of the wagon.

You don't like me at all, do you?" Dave asked with a small smile.

"Is it that obvious?" Adam said, standing with his arms crossed high on his chest.

"Is it because I look like you?"

"Have you ever considered that it's because you almost got me killed?"

"That wasn't my fault but I do regret it."

"Regret it? You let some hothead blow your shoulder apart because you look like me and then I'll tell you that I regret it and see how much comfort it is for you. As a matter of fact, you've done nothing but benefit from our…resemblance. You have to admit that your looking so much like a Cartwright was your entrée into Virginia City society and your position in the church. And then there's Lucy; because of our similarity, Lucy Fairmont is wild about you."

"Did it ever occur to you that Lucy cares for me, and I believe that she truly does, because I give her the attention that every beautiful woman desires and because I care for her in return?"

Adam stood speechless. He had thought of it but didn't want to hear it. So instead of answering Dave, Adam just snorted and started to go back into the store but stopped and turned.

"You're quite the hypocrite, aren't you?" Adam asked. "You want nothing more than to have Lucy, to take her. You preach against the sins of the world and here you are, living a life under a different name and lusting after Lucy Fairmont. I see it, I know how tempting she is." Adam stepped closer to Clayton. "She's ripe for the plucking and as luscious as the apple that seduced Adam in Genesis, isn't she. Wouldn't you like to have a taste of her? Just like biting into a lush apple with all the juices running down your chin. Don't tell me you don't think of her at night just as I do."

"And you say I'm the hypocrite," Clayton said. "You want Lucy too. How long have you wanted her and not told her. She told me about all the years she spent running off every time she could to the Ponderosa and how cruel you were to her, telling her to go home, to stop following you-and all that time you wanted her to follow you, wanted her adoration. And now that you don't have it anymore, you're angry. You blame me."

"If you weren't a minister, I'd enjoy pounding you into this sidewalk."

"Don't let that stop you, Adam. Go ahead. As you say, I'm just a man with all the weaknesses that go with the flesh and if it would make you feel better, take a swing at me. And then I'll turn the other cheek and you can give me a left jab. Would that satisfy you?" Clayton stood and faced Adam, the tension almost palpable.

"Go to hell, Reverend," Adam said, and turned to go into the store, his hands clenched into fists and his jaw working. He wanted to swing at Clayton but knew what would happen if he did. And he also wanted to beat Clayton's face into a bloody pulp for two reasons; Clayton wouldn't be so pretty and also because Clayton was right about him-he was a hypocrite.

The dance was arranged by the Church Ladies' Guild in order to raise money for a stained glass window. Reverend Clayton had told them that a new window was just vanity and that the money could be better spent in assisting the needy but he soon learned that when it came to the Ladies' Guild of Virginia City, he would be better off trying to convince his horse it could fly; when they made up their minds to do something, there was no deterring them.

They had decorated the town hall with colorful crepe and banked flowers against the walls. All the ladies took turns serving cake and punch to the attendees and receiving compliments on how lovely the room looked and what a good idea it was to have a dance to benefit the church. And of course, Clayton had to graciously accept the compliments as well even though he told them that it wasn't his idea. People thought he was being humble but actually, he wanted to wash his hands of the whole thing. "A waste of money," he had told Lucy as he had walked her to the dance. Lucy told him that as long as people had a nice time, it didn't really matter. Dave started to lecture her on being prodigal but stopped himself; it wouldn't do to lecture her when she looked so very pretty.

Lucy asked herself many a time if she was in love with Dave Clayton. When he kissed her for the first time, she wondered if kissing Adam would be the same and then she had chastised herself. She was determined not to think of Adam anymore. Dave was as handsome as Adam-that was obvious to her-and he was so tender with her, gently pulling her to him, his lips molding to hers as he kissed her. Sometimes she felt as if he was on the edge of being more passionate with her, hoped that he would. She wouldn't even have minded if he had run his hands over her but he never did. And then, afterward, when she was in bed, she would think of Adam and then tell herself not to, pound her fist against her forehead to be rid of thoughts of him. But she couldn't help it and she told herself that she wasn't being fair to Dave-he deserved a woman who only thought of him, not another man-not another man that she wanted to love, to have caress her and make much of her. But, she told herself, how could she help but think of Adam when every time she saw Dave's face, it was Adam's. And so she was never at peace.

And here she was at the dance and Dave held her in his arms, twirling her around the dance floor and he was smiling down at her and she, up at him. He laughed as the music's tempo stepped up and they began to turn faster with a slight leaning in to the center. He bent his face closer to hers. "You look beautiful tonight, Lucy," he said. She looked up into his green/gray eyes. That was one of the subtle differences between Dave and Adam, their eye color; Adam had more gold in his.

Adam watched them on the dance floor and when the tune was through, Lucy and Dave, after clapping in appreciation of the musicians, walked over to the refreshments table where Adam stood, holding a punch glass in his hand.

"Hello, Adam," Lucy said. "Isn't this a lovely dance?" Lucy knew that it was silly to ask Adam such a thing-he wouldn't bother to have an opinion on such a trivial matter. "Did you bring someone?"

"No," Adam said, "I came with my brothers-they brought me. Actually, they practically dragged me."

"Oh, I just wondered because you danced a few times with Mrs. Dayton." Lucy hadn't wanted to mention Mrs. Dayton's name-it practically burned her tongue. She noticed that Adam had danced with her many times so far this evening and she saw how Adam smiled at her and she burned with envy. She envied Mrs. Dayton who was blonde and beautiful and Adam had befriended her. And Mrs. Dayton was older and, Lucy was sure, knew her way around men, Of course Adam was attracted to her and Lucy couldn't compete.

"How about a dance with me, Lucy? That is if you don't mind, Reverend." Adam said the last sarcastically.

"No, I don't mind. It's up to Lucy who she dances with." Dave stood back and smiled. "Besides, I'm not used to all this exertion."

Adam gave a small chuckle as the music started and he pulled Lucy to him. Over Lucy's head, Adam said to Dave, "If you plan on marrying Lucy, you'd better get yourself in better shape. I have a feeling that she can be quite demanding." And he took Lucy out on the dance floor while Dave stood and watched.

"What did you mean by that?" Lucy asked looking up at Adam. She had a suspicion that it wasn't nice.

He looked down at her innocently. "Nothing. Just that you're so full of energy-always have been. Could you be happy, Lucy, being a minister's wife, being so staid and polite and having the Ladies' Guild over for tea? Would you like them looking you over to see if you measure up to their ideals? You, who always rode all over the countryside on that little grey Appaloosa of yours, your skirts flying and your hair streaming out behind you. And I don't think that the girls' school your parents sent you to broke you of your hoyden habits. Did it, Lucy?"

"Somehow," Lucy said, "I don't think that's what you meant. And did you ask me to dance just so you could insult me?" She wanted him to be nice to her, to tell her that he missed seeing her out at the Ponderosa-and that he wanted to see more of her. But she knew he wouldn't; sadly that wouldn't be the Adam she loved so much.

"Now, Lucy," Adam said, a smile on his face, "If I wanted to insult you, I'd just do it outright. I wouldn't need to dance with you to do it. Besides, maybe I want to compliment you. You dance on the floor as an angel does in the clouds and you certainly are a vision of beauty in your new dress….it is a new dress, isn't it? At least I've never seen it before."

"Yes," she said tersely, "it's a new dress."

"Well, it's lovely and you're lovely and are you and the good Reverend serious?" he said with a suppressed grin.

Lucy pursed her lips; he was infuriating, so amused at her building rage. "What if I am? What if I marry him? What's it to you?"

"Oh, I was just thinking that with him and me looking so much alike, if you marry him and have any children, people might think they're mine."

Lucy stopped and tried to extricate herself from his grasp but he wouldn't let her go. Instead, he pulled her closer to him.

"What is it, Lucy?" he whispered close to her ear. "Haven't you thought of that or do your naive fantasies only go as far as telling me that you're marrying him. Haven't you thought of all that comes after?" He looked down at her face and saw that he had gone too far; he had upset her and he hadn't meant to. "I'm sorry, Lucy. I'm sorry. I've been an ass and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you…"

"Just let me go," she said, pulling her hand from his, her voice quavering. Adam took his hand from her waist and watched as she walked out. He wanted to follow her, to beg her forgiveness, but people might notice and then there would be gossip so he stayed inside. But he did see Clayton follow her out and Adam realized that Dave had been as closely watching them dance as he had watched Dave and Lucy dance. And now that Clayton had gone after her, Adam decided that he would follow the two of them and apologize to them both.

He stepped out into the night and looked but didn't see them right away. Then he saw them down the sidewalk a short way; Lucy had apparently decided to walk off her anger and Dave had caught up with her. Adam saw this as the right time to apologize to both of them for his comments so he hurriedly walked to them.

"Dave, Lucy," he said. They looked over at him and Lucy pulled her hands out of Dave's; he had been holding her hands in his and quietly talking to her. "Look, I'm sorry for the things I said…especially to you, Lucy. If I could take them all back, I would."

"Well, you can't, can you?" Lucy said. Even in the darkness with only a few lights on in the distance, he could see her anger on her face and hear it in her voice. But then there was another voice behind them.

A man had apparently been in the alley and he came out behind them. "I've been waiting for you, Driscoll." Both Adam and Dave turned and saw a man with a gun pointed at them.

"Oh, my God," Lucy said and grabbed Adam's arm. He pushed her behind him and Dave stepped nearer Adam to place himself in front of her. Because it was a dance, Adam wasn't wearing his gun.

The man stared with a look of surprise, his eyes going from one to the other, staring at them. "Now, I remember you, Driscoll, and I'm sure you remember me-we met, oh, it's been over two years now? I'm the man who shot you down in the street and killed you or thought he did, but obviously, I didn't. I heard that you'd been in Cottonwood not that long ago and tracked you here and what do I find-two of you, one just as ugly as the other. Now, which one is Driscoll? Or do I have to shoot both of you?"

"No!" Lucy said, pushing out between them. She didn't know what she hoped to accomplish but she couldn't let either of them be shot-but most of all, she couldn't let this man shoot Adam thinking he was Driscoll. Not Adam-he had been hurt so much and Lucy realized that if she had to, she would give them Dave to save him, give them herself to save him if she had to. Her young girl's heart only knew that despite Adam's flaws, she loved him with a woman's desire.

"Lucy!" Adam grabbed her arm and pulled her back and she tried to pull away but he held her too tightly.

"Which one of you is Driscoll?" The man asked even louder. "You tell me, Missy. Driscoll? Which one?"

"Neither one," Lucy said, trying to sound brave. "One is Adam Cartwright and one's Dave Clayton, neither is this Driscoll you want."

The man laughed. "Well, well, well, aren't you a brave little thing. Well, Missy, I'm going to kill at least one of them-I have to finish what I started since I have the reputation of the man who killed Sam Driscoll and here he stands in front of me-hale and healthy-whichever one he is." He waved the gun at the men.

Dave stepped forward. "I'm Sam Driscoll and I do remember you. You were faster than I was and I paid for it. But I'm not Driscoll anymore so she's right. Neither of us is really Sam Driscoll."

"Shut up, Dave," Adam said. "I'm Driscoll. Give me a gun and I'll give you another chance at me." Adam felt that since Dave hadn't had any gun play for the last two years, he wouldn't stand a chance. Besides, he owed it to Lucy.

"Come 'ere," the man said to Lucy. "Get over here, girl." Adam, who still had Lucy's arm in his grip, pulled her back.

"Leave her out of this. She's got nothing to do with it. Let her go." Adam said.

"Oh, yeah, I'm going to let her go. She'd go running for help so fast there wouldn't be a chance in hell I'd get either of you. Now come over here, girl. Now!" The man stood and waited.

Suddenly, Clayton threw himself at the man and knocked him down into the street and the gun went off into the air. Adam moved to get the gun away from the man but before he could, it went off again and Lucy gasped; Dave lay on his back in the street, his knees drawn up, his hand clutching his left shoulder, rolling slightly from side to side and gasping. Adam held the man's gun in his hand, telling him to put it down.

"Oh, Dave," Lucy said, kneeling beside him in the dirt. "Is it too bad? You're not going to die are you?" Tears started to roll down her cheeks at the thought that she would have given him up if she had to in order to save Adam and here he had given himself up to save Adam. She felt evil.

"No, no, Lucy. It's not too bad but it does hurt-it hurts like hell." He looked up at Lucy and smiled and she gave a small laugh of relief.

People had come out of the dance when they heard the shots and Adam held the man at gunpoint while Clem, the deputy, came running over. "What the hell is this, Adam?"

"Here," Adam said, handing the man's gun to the deputy. "He shot Clayton-a case of mistaken identity. Do with him whatever you want. I wash my hands of the whole thing." Adam turned to help Clayton up and Lucy held onto Dave's arm.

"I guess we're even now," Dave said through the obvious pain he was suffering. "I just got shot in the shoulder too."

Not quite," Adam said. "You're lucky enough that the doctor's going to pry that bullet out of your arm-I had to rely on Hoss and I can't even begin to tell you what that was like."

"Do you want to give that gun hawk another chance at me? Would that make you feel better?" Clayton asked. He took a deep breath as he leaned on Lucy.

"Don't tempt me," Adam said, grinning. And putting his arm around Clayton, he and Lucy walked him to Dr. Martin's.

It was two weeks later when Joe came into the house and told Adam that Lucy was riding up.

"What makes you think she's here to see me?" Adam asked. Joe gave him a look that meant, "You have to ask?"

Adam stood up and opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Lucy had just ridden up but she didn't stop and dismount; she just stopped her horse in front of the porch.

"Aren't you going to come in?" Adam asked. He hadn't seen Lucy since the night Clayton was shot nor had he gone to church; he was too ashamed.

"No," Lucy gave a weak smile. "I just came by to say goodbye. I'm leaving Wednesday for Europe- for my grand tour."

"Why? What about you and Dave?"

"Oh, I realized that we…well, it just wasn't right" She looked down at her hands and played with the reins.

"I'm sorry, Lucy."

"Oh, don't be," she said with a wistful look on her face. "When he's able-bodied again, Dave said that he's going to look to start a church, go find someplace, some town without one and start a church. He feels that's his calling, so he's leaving too. I think he'll be happy and I wasn't cut out to be a minister's wife as you pointed out to me."

Adam looked down and Lucy could see his jaw work. She knew that meant he was upset, that he was trying to control himself. "Well, I have to get back. I have some shopping to do and packing and then I have to go to Boston to catch the ship and, I'm a little nervous but my parents have hired Mrs. Harrington as a companion to go with me so that I won't be alone."

"I'm glad to hear that, Lucy. You'll have a nice time and as pretty as you are, why you'll probably marry an Italian prince and live an outrageous life. Just don't start another war over there by having people fight over you." He smiled at her; he would miss her. He hadn't realized how much he would.

"Goodbye, Adam," she said and started to kick her horse on but Adam grabbed the reins. "Kiss me goodbye, Lucy."

She leaned down and as he clasped the back of her neck and pulled her to him, she placed her hand on his arm. She closed her eyes and as his lips met hers, she felt such a longing and such a thrill went through her that she knew that it was best that she not marry Dave; Adam's kiss told her that; she wanted to kiss him until her lips were bruised and sore. And when he let her go and stepped back, she turned and rode away but told herself, "One day, Adam. The time will be right for us one day."

And Adam stood and wondered what was in store for him and Dave Clayton and Lucy. "Life is strange," Adam muttered to himself. "And fate is not to be trusted. Buona fortuna, Lucy. And come home safely." And the fire she had ignited in him swept through his veins to merge in the center of his soul where it sat and smoldered, where it would lie as embers for years until it would one day flare up again and be all consuming.

~Finis~


End file.
